


The Surface

by braidy_maidy



Category: The Legend of Zelda: Skyward Sword
Genre: Anxiety, F/M, Flashbacks, Healing, Post-Canon, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-11
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-17 23:26:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 19,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29358696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/braidy_maidy/pseuds/braidy_maidy
Summary: A post-Skyward Sword story. Link and Zelda establish their new lives in an empty world and learn more about themselves and their destinies.
Relationships: Link/Zelda (Legend of Zelda)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 41





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fanfiction picks up the moment where Skyward Sword ends. I have taken some liberties with headcanons and the lore behind the game, but they will be explained as the story progresses. My story explores the relationship between Link and Zelda after the events of the game and how they are grappling with their new identities as the goddess and hero. Also, I am researching a lot about survival tactics, as Link and Zelda are the only inhabitants of this world, and I have found it quite amusing! Ten years after the game’s release, I finally decided to take the closure I desired into my own hands. I’m excited to contribute to the fandom and I am open to any and all comments. I hope you enjoy reading!

“What about you, Link? What will you do now?”

Zelda’s question hung in the air around the two standing atop of the Goddess statue. Visiting the surface had been Zelda’s dream since she was a child. A dream she shared with very few people of Skyloft, but Link knew all too well.

Link could not help but chuckle at her inquiry. After all the hardship they had been through since arriving at the Surface, Link half expected her to abandon her dream. 

He smiled because she was still Zelda. Even after gaining memories of her past life and her thousand-year sleep, she was still resolute and set on her goals. No fear or struggle would keep her from diving into a new life on the Surface. 

“Can’t we rest before jumping into the next thing?” Link joked.

“I can’t believe all you can think about is sleeping!” Zelda feigned offense. 

After her pretend outburst she bowed her head and looked up at him—the same bashful look she gave him after the Wing Ceremony when she suggested they should go flying together. An expression of innocence, like she was unaware of the significance of her question.

Link thought back to the chatter surrounding the Wing Ceremony. In Skyloft, the young women fantasize about kindling a love with a new knight atop of the Goddess Statue. With Zelda assuming the role of the goddess in her and Link’s graduating cohort, winning the ceremony equated knighthood with spending alone time with her on top of the statue.

And here they were. Alone on the statue again. With Zelda wondering if Link may be willing to abandon everything familiar to build a new life on the Surface. To leave behind the rest of his friends, his possessions, his home.

The answer was clear before the words left Zelda’s mouth. Link would do anything for her. Since Zelda’s disappearance, Link had been charging headfirst into any obstacle for her safety. 

“I’ll stay down here,” he answered. “If you have room for one more that is.”

Link’s answer merited a laugh from Zelda, and she became progressively aware of how her heartbeat felt in her ears. They exchanged smiles, both of them unsure of the next step to take. Link rubbed the back of his neck in an attempt to lower his pulse. Zelda looked down with her hands interlaced.

Their tension was broken by the sound of giant feathers rustling. They both noted how out of place that noise was on the Surface, and they found comfort in the vestiges of their previous life. 

The rustling was followed by flapping as both Link and Zelda’s Loftwings departed into the sky. The pair’s eyes followed their birds, both consciously etching their images on their minds. Link studied the sturdy frame of his bird, the frame that held him countless times during his task to defeat Demise. His bird who he so effortlessly bonded with since he was a child. 

They watched them disappear into shapeless forms into the sky, staring intently even after they ascended too far to see.

“Goodbye,” Zelda heard Link whisper. She glanced at him, crestfallen. Loftwings served as a second half of the people of Skyloft’s being. But they were no longer people of Skyloft. 

She looked ahead from their vantage point atop the Goddess Statue. She could see past the Sealed Temple, well into Faron Woods. The peaks and troughs of hills, the different trees and shrubbery. She thought herself spoiled as she could see two rivers from where she stood—double the amount in the entirety of Skyloft. 

“Link…” she started, “He will never forget you. You are just as important to him as he is to you. A Loftwing’s place is in the sky.”

“Yeah…” Link responded. “It’s weird. My whole life I was lauded for my connection to that bird and…” he trailed off. _And now he’s gone,_ he thought to himself.

All of the people of Skyloft found comfort in their feathered companions. Their Loftwings allowed them to explore the skies and to reach destinations one could never with just two legs. Loftwings allowed them freedom from the small rock they called home, and protection from enemies in the sky. Link suddenly felt fragmented, like a half with no whole to claim. He knew the ache would ease with time. Maybe he could learn to feel complete. Maybe he would find something else to complete him. 

He looked over at Zelda, lost once more in the vastness of Faron. He stared along with her, soaking in the countless shades of green before them.

Zelda breathed in the fresh air, smelled the scents of the different foliage surrounding her. She began this activity out of necessity to calm herself from the heightened emotions of the last moments, and she found herself savoring the smell of the Surface. She attempted to discern the different sounds of the forest, and she swore her feet felt firmer on ground lower than Skyloft. After minutes of the pair looking out on the horizon, Zelda broke their silence.

“I may take a page from your book,” Zelda began, “Shall we set up camp for the night?”

* * *

With the loss of their birds, they staggered down the Goddess Statue: first Zelda with the sailcloth, then she sent it back up to Link using her divine magic, the same way she gifted Link the Goddess Harp. He thought back to that moment, the moment he feared being too late for Zelda. 

“Did the sailcloth hold up for you alright?” Link asked once his feet hit the ground.

“Well I’m here, aren’t I?” She answered to a flustered Link. “Yes it did,” she smiled. “After all, the best seamstress in all of Skyloft made it,” she continued, referring to herself. “Thank you, Link.”

“We’ll have to get creative with things you can push me off of,” Link joked. They shared a laugh and headed towards the Sealed Temple.

Once inside, Link was surprised to hear the name Zelda uttered.

“Impa,” she began, “she left a few provisions, tucked away in a chest back here.” Zelda stepped in front of Link and ascended the stairs to the room in which she slept for thousands of years. Link surveyed the rest of the inside of the Sealed Temple, searching for the most comfortable resting spot.

Link walked the perimeter of the lower level of the Sealed Temple. He decided on the nook of the temple where the Tree of Life stood. It had a hole to let the sun in in the morning, and he believed the tree to give the space a warm atmosphere. He started towards Zelda, ready to present his evidence.

“What’d you find in the chest?” He asked, climbing the stairs. “Oh!” He exclaimed upon seeing Zelda.

She was wearing a different outfit. Her new white shirt was without the purplish sheen her ceremonial robes bore. Her shirt’s sleeve openings were larger than necessary, but tapered moving closer to her body. She wore a navy blue skirt down to her ankles, and her brown boots that she wore on Skyloft returned to her feet. She also adorned a large cloth black belt around her waist that had a green stripe going across her torso. Lastly, she wore a red cloth headband, and her two strands of hair that hung in front of her pointed ears hung without ribbons.

“She left behind some clothes!” Zelda explained, “I’d say I can probably retire that last dress.” 

“Oh,” Link repeated, “they're great!”

“She was always one step ahead,” Zelda reminisced with her hands clasped and head down. Link recalled Impa’s departure—he did not fully consider it a death. The spot where she faded was directly behind him. 

“Thankfully she was,” Link added. Impa was the reason Zelda was safe. She saved Zelda from Ghirahim’s forces when Link was too late. 

_I was late,_ he repeated internally. 

“Did you pick a spot to settle for the night?” She asked to break the tension. 

“Uhh, yeah!” Link responded, pointing behind him towards Zelda’s right side. “I was thinking by the Tree of Life. There’s a light source and… well…” he trailed off. 

“Mm-hmm!” Zelda cheerily encouraged the ending of his thought. 

“Well I think the tree looks nice,” Link finished. 

“Definitely,” Zelda agreed in a particularly relaxed voice. “Let’s put some bedding down and then go out for food and water. I wouldn’t mind getting to sleep before sunset.” 

They descended the stairs together and headed towards their newly-designated resting area.

“I’m glad you didn’t choose the back room,” Zelda stated, “I think I got enough sleep in there.”

It was less than a day ago she awoke from her thousands years of sleep in order to hold the seal that contained Demise. Link wondered how she was speaking of her long sleep so lightly already. Link could compare the bliss he felt in the moment she woke up to very few others. Their rejoicing was cut short by Ghirahim’s final intervention where he stole Zelda in his attempt to revive Demise. Link shut his eyes tightly to avoid reliving the memory of Zelda’s agony.

Once they reached the Tree of Life, Link removed his belt along with the pouches containing the supplies he used on his journey. The items that were granted to him by Goddess Hylia shared the inexplicable property of being able to shrink and grow upon storage and use respectively. She had gifted him sleeping provisions when he pulled the infantile Master Sword from its base the night he first encountered Fi.

They set out their mats near the Tree of Life, positioned parallel to each other a couple feet apart. Link would sleep closest to the tree and Zelda closest to the wall. Impa left them blankets as well. They agreed on Link retrieving water and wood while Zelda foraged for food.

They returned to the Sealed Temple at sunset, to both of their dismays. They wished that they could have extra time to relax. They needed to take advantage of every minute of daylight and wake up at sunrise for the foreseeable future—rebuilding their lives would happen quicker that way. Tonight, they would satiate their hunger and thirst, and go to sleep immediately after, not allowing themselves any time to conversate. They both reached this conclusion alone and silently agreed this was the best plan. 

“There goes your plans, Zelda. I’m sorry,” Link said, coming through the back entrance of the sealed temple with bottles full of water and arms full of sticks and bark.

“I appreciate your sympathy, but no use in grieving,” Zelda responded. “Come over here, I have dinner laid out for us.”

Link stored the wood against the wall of the temple and approached Zelda where she was sitting. He made a mental note of her chosen dining area: adjacent to the offshoot that housed the Tree of Life and before the platform that led up to the second Gate of Time. 

“I hope you enjoy your blend of shoots, berries and fruits I found!” Zelda announced. “I'm glad you found a good amount of wood, I found some eggs we can cook tomorrow,” she continued. Link smiled at his dinner spread and her upbeat attitude. After they had been through and lost so much, she maintained her position of a source of comfort for Link.

“Also, I have our first task for tomorrow morning decided,” she declared. “I have to serve our dinner on my belt so... we should make some dinnerware.”

“I don’t mind the belt,” Link retorted, popping a berry into his mouth mischievously. They were seated face to face with Zelda’s new cloth belt outstretched facing down. They ate, commented on the food, noted and lightly debated their favorites, and went at once to lie down.

“I’m um…” Link started, “I’m going to take my tunic and chainmail off so I don’t alarm you. Just uh, wanted to let you know.” At this point, he had already removed his boots and belt and was kneeling on his sleeping mat.

“Okay!” Zelda replied. She brought the trunk Impa left behind closer to them and she was rustling through it, organizing its contents. She was facing away from Link, but could see his shadow from a torch they had lit near their sleeping area. He pulled up his tunic first, gently folding it and setting it aside, then repeated the same process with his chainmail. Lastly, he removed his gloves so he was left wearing his collared white undershirt and tan pants. Zelda could not suppress her heartbeat picking up pace once more at the sight of his shadow undressing. She kneeled in front of the chest until Link was finished with his routine, the color red creeping onto her face and ears. He laid down on his sleeping mat signaling his completion and Zelda followed suit. 

Link extinguished the flame, they shared good nights, and that was the last they saw or heard until day broke. 

  
  
  
  


  
  



	2. Chapter 2

By traveling through time and vanquishing the very source of evil, Zelda thought that she was immune to surprises. She awoke with a sight she never would have expected: Link pulling on his boots. She blinked her eyes a couple of times, at first unable to process the sight of Link upright. 

Link slid his green tunic on over the top of his shirt and pants, and turned to face Zelda. 

“Hi! Good morning!” Link uttered, noticing Zelda’s open eyes. “I was just about to wake you up!” 

“Thank you, Link,” Zelda said dreamily. “Why are you up? How are you up?!”

“Those plates aren’t going to make themselves!” Link answered, affixing his gloves. 

_How long has he been like this,_ Zelda wondered as she arose. She fastened her cloth belt to her torso, tying the green ribbon attached to the back of the belt behind her. 

She could not shake the feeling of being unsettled by the sight of Link awake. Not a single complaint had left his lips since arising. She wondered how else her friend had changed. Above all, she had been looking forward to waking him up and replicating their days of youth. 

“What do you have planned today?” Link inquired. 

_Plans?_ Zelda thought, _Link making plans?_

“Well, I had to collect dinner in my skirt yesterday,” Zelda explained, lifting the bottom of her skirt slightly to model how she had carried the food she had gathered. “I’ll weave some baskets and have a fire prepared at dusk to cook dinner.” 

“Sounds great!” Link agreed, making the last of his preparations, buckling his belt. “I’ll be at the river to the east collecting clay.” He noticed Zelda’s confused expression upon stating his destination. “Let me take you there.”

Zelda finished wrapping her days’ allocation of food in a cloth to bring along: some ramps mixed with berries and dandelion. She had been craving a hot meal for ages—she breathed in deeply in an attempt to trick herself out of the dull hunger with which she was so familiar. 

“You mind eating on the way?” Link questioned. 

“Of course not, following you,” Zelda confirmed. They exited the Sealed Temple through the back, with Zelda deeming the area directly behind the temple appropriate for a fire pit. She added collecting rocks for the fire pit to her mental list of to-dos. 

They were grateful for an uneventful passage to the river. Zelda gathered more shoots and edible greens as they walked and Link pointed out markers on their path that would make the destination back to the Sealed Temple easier. Link picked up a branch that he explained he would sharpen to use as a rudimentary shovel. 

“Before we separate, do you think you could make one for me,” requested Zelda, referring to Link’s digging stick. 

“Yeah definitely,” he replied. “I believe we’re almost there so I’ll find a rock to sharpen it on.” 

When they arrived at the riverbank with two sturdy branches in their possession, Link demonstrated to Zelda how to make the tool. 

“So it’s not exactly a shovel, but we’re in a rush. You just take the pointy part and, well, jab it into the ground where you want to dig,” Link explained.

“Easy enough,” Zelda declared, sporting her very own digging stick with a smile. “Thank you.”

Link chuckled at Zelda seemingly posing with her tool. She held it diagonal across her body, cocked her head and smiled with her eyes closed. She straightened up after a couple seconds and met his eyes. Link’s feelings of affection towards Zelda gave way to slight panic as the silence elongated.

“I’m going to get started!” Link declared, signaling towards the river.

“Yes! I’ll see you later,” Zelda affirmed. She ducked back into the thickly wooded area they walked through to reach the river, surveying her surroundings. She was thankful for the amount of cattails around her—the stalks were to be used as basket weaving material and doubled as food. She told herself she would collect extra to provide Link with a snack while he dug for clay.

While gathering her materials, she giggled to herself regarding the shovel Link made her. _Link’s first gift to me on the Surface is a stick_ , she thought. Her mind wandered to the other creations Link had gifted to her during their time in Skyloft. She envisioned the Loftwing carving Link gave her for a birthday present, and remembered the meticulous detail and strong resemblance to her actual Loftwing. When Zelda was a student of the Knight Academy, that statue would be a source of comfort for her—always reminding her of the care Link put into it to make her happy. She strained to recall seeing one of his Loftwing carvings in anyone else’s room.

Upon gathering enough reeds, Zelda found a clearing surrounded by trees. Approaching the opening, she grazed her hands across the bark of a tree next to her, scrutinizing the texture and firmness. She gazed up at the tree, memorizing the shape of the leaves sprouting from its branches. A sea of green, as thick as the clouds in the sky. A breeze ran through, and she closed her eyes to direct more attention to her ears. She lost count of her breaths in the euphoric rustle of white noise caused by the wind on the leaves. She realized she was taking too much time studying the flora and had to pry herself away in order to start her project. 

Zelda laid the reeds out and laced them perpendicular. The repetition soothed her mind and made her stop focusing on her aching body. _Up and down, up and down,_ she repeated to herself. At times, she synchronized her weaving with bird calls.

Once she had finished two baskets, Zelda headed back to Link at the riverbed. She figured he may find something he would want to carry back to the Sealed Temple. As she approached the spot they parted, she noticed a small oblong object on the ground. It was brightly patterned, but smothered in clay.

“Link! I see you caught a fish!” She called out. “Good job!” She complimented while looking up to find him.

She could not contain her gasp as she noticed Link’s current appearance. 

He was hunched over, knee deep in the riverbed with a handful of wet clay, staring wide eyed directly at Zelda. She could only discern his undergarments from his skin caked in muck.

“I’m sorry!” Zelda yelped, turning on her heel and covering her face. 

“No it’s okay! I thought we were meeting at dusk back by the temple!” Link stammered. 

“I came back to bring you a snack! I’ll just leave it here in this basket!” 

“Thank you!” Link called out, equally as frantic as the moment she first witnessed him almost naked.

“I’ll be sure to knock next time!” She called out, obstructed by a line of trees. 

* * *

Link climbed back onto the shore of the river, tossing his handful of gunk into a larger pile of gunk. The gunk he was accumulating was wet clay from the riverbed, which he would scoop from to shape dishes for him and Zelda. 

He sat down next to his sludge pile, touching his temples and processing what had transpired between him and Zelda. Throughout their decade of living in the Knight Academy dormitory together, he never revealed himself to her like that. They had swam in the lake together in Skyloft, but that seemed different. He also had not been smothered in ground matter.

Link hung his head backwards and looked up at the sky. He brushed his bangs back, forgetting about depositing even more clay into his hair until it was too late. He recognized he was thankful for the clay he had unintentionally smeared on his face, as it concealed his face turning red with Zelda’s approach. In this moment, peering upwards, he could only identify one thing he missed from Skyloft: a warm bath. He could rinse off in the river in front of him, but the cold current would be far from refreshing to him.

As he pondered how he could access a hot water source, he began shaping clay into what would become dishes for him and Zelda. Two bowls and a jug would suffice for today. He splashed water on his clay mound as necessary, and scrutinized the dish that was designated for Zelda especially close. He made sure the bowl was perfectly smooth, and the perfect size and shape. He closed his eyes and tried to imagine the size of the meals Zelda ate back at the Knight Academy and adjusted her dish accordingly. 

As he was sculpting, he suddenly remembered where he had encountered a body of warm water on his journey to obtain the Sacred Flames: a hot spring about an hour’s trek. He looked up at the sky once more, this time with a purpose outside of subduing his embarrassment. The sun was high, which meant he still had about six hours of daylight. He adjusted his schedule to allow himself travel time to and from the spring. He decided he would prepare the pottery and then head towards his destination.

_Goddesses, I hope these dishes hold up during my walk_ , Link pleaded internally. He stacked the damp pottery and held it in one arm. With his other hand, he placed his clean clothes he had removed before digging in the basket Zelda had made him. _There will be more,_ he thought, abandoning the fish at the riverbank. 

He returned to the Sealed Temple and dug a hole primarily with his hands to fire his pottery. He figured it would not hurt to get as dirty as possible. He placed the pottery in the bottom of the kiln, deposited wood and straw on top, and lit a fire. He fired the dishes twice more with additional flammable material and headed towards the spring. _I have four hours,_ he told himself, picking up his basket of clothing and food.

As Link walked, he became progressively more aware of the clay cracking and flaking off of his body. His skin craved the liquid touch of a bath, and he dreaded that his only method of transportation was his own two legs.

Upon approaching the spring, Link’s memory blurred. One moment he was setting his basket of items down, the next he was completely disrobed, submerged chin-deep in the hot water. He scrubbed the clay out of his undergarments, and ran his fingers through his hair, with each stroke becoming gradually smoother. He leaned back and inhaled in the steam, savoring every breath. He watched the water vapor billow upwards, disappearing along with his consciousness. His blinks became longer, and he drifted asleep.

_You were late._

_You failed to protect her._

He jolted awake, forgetting where he was. _Where is Zelda,_ he thought. His chest became tight, and he leapt out of the pool. _It’s still light,_ he assured himself. He quickly dried off, dressed and headed towards the Sealed Temple in haste.

_I need to make sure Zelda has everything she needs,_ Link thought during his run back to their resting place. _I must protect her_.

His guilt was overshadowed by exhaustion upon reaching the Sealed Temple. He smelled a fire, and he was relieved he had the idea to gather some food during his journey to supplement their meal. The burning wood scent meant that Zelda was beginning dinner. She had prepared a fire pit and a flame while Link was sleeping. _Never again_ , he said to himself.

“I see you decided to put some clothes on,” Zelda teased as he approached her. 

Link chuckled at her comment, but thinking back to their previous encounter made his shoulders tense up.

“I uh… I didn’t want to get my clothes dirty,” Link explained. “Thanks so much for setting this up and cooking,” he added. Link retrieved their dishes from the pit in the ground, wiped them off and brought them to Zelda to serve dinner. As they ate their eggs and greens, they recounted the events of the day, excluding Zelda witnessing a clay-covered Link.

“I thought you caught a fish earlier!” Zelda recalled.

“About that…” Link started. He explained that he left it behind, leaving out his voyage to the hot spring.

After dinner, the cycle that they would become so familiar with ended. For the next month, their days would closely resemble their first day upon the Surface: wake up at dawn, work until sunset, eat, sleep, rinse, repeat. 


	3. Chapter 3

Zelda’s eyes blinked open at sunrise. When she was able to sustain a coherent thought, the number 30 came to her mind.

Thirty days. One month her and Link have been residing beneath the clouds on the Surface. Her hands were calloused and she could feel a dull ache emanating from every joint in her body. She sat up to resist the temptation of falling back asleep and turned to face Link’s sleeping spot. This morning marked three in a row that he had left the temple before Zelda awoke. Zelda frowned, missing the soft whisper or unintentional clunk originating from Link to wake her.

She arose and dressed, and a soft smile formed on her lips as she recalled the mornings that Link was the first thing she saw. She wrapped her red ribbon around her head, combing her fingers through her hair. As she laced her fingers through her golden locks, she began visualizing how it would feel if Link’s hand replaced hers. They had only touched a few times before, but she was familiar with the care of his embrace. She thought back to the day she woke up from her eons-long sleep, only to fall into his arms.

As she headed towards the back of the temple, Link entered through the back entrance. They both jumped, not expecting to see each other. 

“Hey! I was just about to come check on you,” Link announced.

“Thank you, Link,” replied Zelda, cupping her hands together. They both looked to the side to avoid holding eye contact for too long. 

The pair began speaking at the same time, drowning out any meaning in each other’s words. They shared a strained laugh and insisted the other one speak first. Victory went to Link, and Zelda began first.

“Link… you’ve been gone the past three days when I woke up,” she observed, “is everything okay? Do you need any help?”

“Oh! Yeah I’m fine,” he reassured. “I’ve been scoping out some areas I think would be good to start building a shelter. It’s probably about time we moved out of the temple. I know the ancient gods would be accepting of our presence, but this is a place for worship, not living.”

Zelda tilted her chin up listening to Link’s explanation: Link, whose desk doubled as a pillow during history class, respecting tradition? She blinked a few times in disbelief, and her expression softened as she recognized Link’s growth. This was not the same Link who used to pluck the flowers that grew around the Goddess Statue. 

“Yeah, you’re right,” Zelda agreed. 

“Well, I’m heading back out. I think I’m ready to break ground on your house,” he continued. “See you later!”

Link turned around and left, in the same fashion he had been repeating for the last month. Zelda had no intention to intrude into Link’s privacy, and she supposed the number of his tasks would diminish in due time. His evasive actions did not match the tone of his voice, always cheerful and energetic. He was well-intended, checking to see if Zelda was awake and teaching her to make different tools and objects. Their conversations had become pragmatic—their discussions mostly revolved around what had been done that day and what needed to be done the next.

Zelda breathed in deeply, and it became increasingly apparent how vast the temple was. The high ceilings created a vacancy that matched the space in her heart, longing for relief from a growing feeling of isolation. She felt the interior of the temple was uncharacteristically dark, despite a sunbeam entering from the roof. She stepped outside and tilted her head towards the sun with closed eyes, and felt her skin absorb the morning warmth. In this position, she reflected on what they had accomplished in the past month.

In a month, they had tilled and planted a farm, built a pen for ducks they caught, and created tools, traps, weapons and other luxuries such as stools and a bath. They hovered above the survival line, and Link’s tools that he amassed on his adventure did ease some of their burden. 

_Tonight when we eat,_ Zelda thought to herself, _I’m going to ask him about his journey_.

* * *

That evening, Zelda returned to their fire pit behind the Sealed Temple after laundering her clothes. Before arriving, she ensured her hair was tame and she recited a variety of conversation topics in her mind. She approached Link with a warm smile and a wave, and he was nearing completion of their meal: fish filets with root vegetables and some foraged greens. Zelda cheerily accepted her plate, thanked her companion, and they sat on their respective stone stools to eat.

“So Zelda, how was your d—”

“What happened in Skyloft while I was gone?” Zelda interrupted. _That didn’t come out as intended_ , she told herself. She held his gaze unwavering, and he blinked wide-eyed in response. 

“Is there anything you’d like to know in particular?” Link finally asked.

“I’m sorry, I’ve just been curious for so long,” she admitted. She then faced the consequences of speaking before thinking: she did not have a top of mind answer for Link‘s question. She placed her finger on her lip and thought back to her former home. She had said her goodbyes to her father and Groose the day Demise was defeated, and the next person that was of interest was her neighbor at the Knight Academy.

“How’s Karane?” Zelda inquired.

Link looked to the side in response to her question.

“Funny you should ask,” he began, leaning over slightly and perching his forearms on his thighs. “Last I spoke to her, her and Pipit were engaged,” he revealed.

“Engaged? Like to be married?” Zelda blurted. There was a shock to her heart at this information. She lifted a delicate hand to her chest and reflected on her time above the clouds. _What else did I miss?_ She asked herself.

“That’s so wonderful for them,” she stated, lowering her head with her eyes closed. Despite her joy towards her friend’s relationship, jealousy gnawed at her heart. She wondered what would have happened in her life if she remained in Skyloft—maybe her and Link’s relationship would have strengthened as well. She felt that their destinies had erased some of the closeness they once shared. They spent a year encountering each other sparsely, and even though now they were physically together, a clear yet unspoken divide lingered.

“I wish I could see their wedding,” she ended. Link nodded and grunted in agreement.

“They’re really good for each other. I’d say they match each other’s intensity,” Link expressed. Zelda smiled at this comment, envisioning how they may interact.

They chatted briefly about their meal, and Zelda concocted another topic for them to discuss.

“What’s one thing that you love to eat on the Surface that you couldn’t find in Skyloft?” Zelda asked. 

Link cocked his head to the side and looked up at the sky. He ran through the repertoire of new foods he had encountered on the Surface. He considered mentioning the night he feasted on a boiled young Ampilus in Lanayru desert, but he was craving sweets in this instance.

“Honey,” he decided.

“I haven’t gotten the chance to try that yet,” Zelda responded, imagining the viscous golden treat. “Where did you find it?” 

“Actually, there’s some not too far away,” Link explained. “There’s beehives on the way to the Skyview Temple. I’m going to head over there soon because I know I can find seeds for my slingshot in the same area. I can bring some honey back when I go.”

“That would be great,” Zelda commented. 

At that point, they had finished their meal and began cleaning up. Since Link cooked, Zelda took the dishes to their wash basin and scrubbed them clean. When she returned and entered the Sealed Temple, Link was already asleep. 

_Goodnight, sleepyhead_ , she said internally as she laid down to rest.

* * *

The next morning as Zelda opened her eyes, she quickly realized she was alone in the temple once more.

_I thought he was only getting up that early to plan shelter,_ she thought. She arose, dressed and prepared her supplies for the day. She spent the bulk of the day tending to their farm and their animals. Before returning to their fire pit to prepare dinner, she washed herself and laundered her clothes. Because of the arduous nature of their current lives, she ensured to wash every day before returning to the Sealed Temple. Hygiene was one of the few luxuries to which they had access, and the process of cleansing made some of her body aches dissipate.

As Zelda plated their food, Link appeared. She turned her attention to his arrival, smiling and offering him a plate.

“Thanks so much,” Link started. “Today I’m going to bring this with me. I think I’m going to stay out a bit longer tonight chopping wood.”

“Oh… well alright,” Zelda responded, her voice strewn with confusion. 

“I’ll be sure to clean up when I get back. See you later!” Link said, grabbing his plate and heading towards the forest again. 

Zelda sat and ate her meal in silence. _Did I say something wrong?_ She ruminated. After eating, she returned to their resting spot in the Sealed Temple. Tonight, it was impossible to get comfortable, but she eventually drifted into sleep out of exhaustion. 

This new pattern continued for the next three days. Link being gone in the morning, and taking his dinner with him to work. Although they were the only two known inhabitants on the Surface, this was the first time since they arrived that she felt true loneliness. She began to tune out the call of birds and the rustling of trees she once found so comforting. The sounds and sights of the Surface could not replace her yearning for contact with Link. The third night her and Link feasted separately, as she laid on her mat, she vowed she would find answers.

Zelda stirred awake before the sun rose, woken by the soft rattling of a pebble bouncing across the stone floor of the temple. She heard a door quietly creak open to her right, registering that Link was exiting the temple through the front door. She carefully stood up, neglecting to pull on her boots to conceal the sound of her movements. With her heartbeat in her ears, she followed Link’s path, pausing every couple of seconds to ensure a silent passage. 

She peeked out the front door to find Link kneeling in front of the Goddess Statue. She watched as his head alternated from looking up at the statue to down at the ground. Zelda could not decipher the words he was saying, but she heard the quiet drone of his voice from meters ahead. After observing his movements for a couple moments, she returned to her sleeping mat, unsettled by the sting of confusion and guilt.

The next time she woke up, the sun dotted the inside walls of the temple. She was alone in the temple, and she slowly stood and dressed, her movement speed weighed down as the result of poor sleep. As she headed to leave the building, she stopped in the main room, staring at the front door, remembering the events of last night. Back in Skyloft, she rarely witnessed Link praying to the statue of Goddess Hylia that towered over their island. He had a greater proclivity for drifting off than praying when he used to kneel in front of the statue. 

Later that afternoon, she immersed herself in her work, figuring she could suppress her emotions with labor. She tended, foraged, gathered, cleaned and chopped in solitude. As she swung her stone axe into the air to finish preparing the last of the firewood necessary for dinner, her attention turned to the tree line adjacent to her. The sound of footsteps merited a small shriek from her, and she held her axe in a defensive position. Her breath picked up, bracing for whatever was going to emerge from the forest.

It was Link, hours early for dinner.

“Um, hey Zelda…” he started. 


	4. Chapter 4

“Link!” Zelda quickly lowered the axe she was holding across her body. “I wasn’t expecting you!”

Link stood frozen in front of her with his legs shoulder-width apart, one arm at a 90 degree angle, intending on gesturing _hello_. He stopped his wave short upon noticing Zelda’s stance, recognizing her shock. They stared wordlessly at each other, both realizing their respective errors. The pair remained still for a couple of seconds, substituting conversation with slow blinks. Their silence was interrupted by Zelda disarming herself, dropping her axe. 

“What brings you back so early?” Zelda asked, stepping over her axe to approach Link. 

Link’s throat emitted some croaks as he pieced together the beginning sounds of a word. Zelda was now standing in front of him, eyebrows angled upwards in concern and confusion. Link lowered his head and lifted an arm, hovering his hand around his neck for a few moments. Zelda cocked her head, attempting to glean meaning from Link’s actions.

Link suddenly pulled down his white collar, revealing multiple red welts upon his neck.

“Bees?!” Zelda shrieked. Link grimaced at her announcement. “How are you feeling?” She continued.

“I’m fine, I was just going to grab some soap to wash them out,” Link declared, referring to his sores. 

“Oh no… I’m sorry,” Zelda spoke. “Here, meet me back by the fire pit after you do that. I can make you something for that!” Following her statement, she raced past Link into the forest.

_You really don’t need to,_ Link would have said if she had not left with such haste. He continued his path into the Sealed Temple to discard his tunic and undershirt. Grabbing a small jar, soap and a cloth, he sighed deeply and returned outside to their rainwater reserve. He poured some of the water from the reservoir into his jar and situated himself on the ground to cleanse his wounds.

As he lathered, he took slow and controlled breaths, trying to calm himself from the piercing pain that penetrated his skin. He winced as he applied a soapy hand to his neck.

_I wonder what she’s getting._

He poured water over his cloth and applied it to the suds on his neck. He grimaced and sucked in air through his teeth.

_How much time have I lost from this?_

When the cleaning process was complete, he went to retrieve his undershirt. He left his washing items in the Sealed Temple and went to meet Zelda behind the building. 

Zelda was sitting on one of their two stools that encircled the fire pit. The stools are usually situated across from each other, but Zelda had repositioned them to both be on one side of the pit. She stood up upon seeing Link, and Link noticed she was holding a plate with a crushed up green substance on it. She craned her neck in an attempt to spot the bee stings on his neck, but his high collar was blocking her view.

“Link, before we sit down,” she said softly, followed by a short pause, “I don’t want to accidentally touch your neck holding your collar down. You’ll probably have to take your shirt off,” she finished even quieter, something on the ground seemingly holding her gaze. “I’ll do it for you since we don’t have a mirror,” she offered, lifting her head.

Link cleared his throat in response. He reached to untuck his shirt and Zelda sat down, facing away from him as he removed it. He sat down in front of her with his back to her.

Zelda dipped her hands in the gooey contents of her plate and spread some out on the side of Link’s neck that housed two welts. On impact, he took in one sharp breath and then sensed a cooling sensation from where pain once emanated. As she rubbed the first application into his skin, they were quiet, only exchanging breaths. Her delicate touch communicated care and warmth to Link, and he felt his muscles release their tension. As she extended her arm to the plate again, Link spoke.

“Thank you, that really helps,” he stated, “What is this?”

“I’m glad. It’s ribwort leaf. All you have to do it is…” she trailed off.

“Huh?” Link questioned after Zelda’s brief silence.

“Um… you just have to chew it and apply it to the wound,” she finished, her speech getting progressively faster. Link snickered at her revelation. She laughed along.

“How’d you know to use it?” Link inquired. He was welcome to any and all knowledge surrounding wilderness techniques. 

“Well…” Zelda began, now having covered half of the sores on Link’s neck. “It’s a long story. When I regained Hylia’s memories, she offered some that weren’t a part of any plan or prophecy. I’ve noticed these memories are always thought of very… fondly. Many of these memories are about the living things on the Surface—what they look like, sound like, smell like, and what they can be used for. I believe she did this for two reasons. One, to make me, Zelda become even more enamored with the Surface. If I sought to protect this land, then I was more likely to work to save it from Demise.”

At this point, Zelda had finished her task, and Link turned to face her. 

“Second: I considered the emotion she imbued into these memories. Hylia was the goddess entrusted to protect this land from evil. She loved her people, and the animals and plants. Those memories gave me the strength to keep going. She sought to lessen my sorrows from the past year with sweet memories.” She brought a hand to her heart at the last sentence.

_A year,_ Link repeated in his mind. They were 19 now. He was able to keep track of time on his journey, courtesy of his robotic companion, Fi. 

_I really made her wait that long._ His stomach sank, and he wished he could feel the calming sensation of her hands on his skin once more. 

_You were late_. 

_You failed to protect her._

Zelda stood up, redirecting his attention to the sight of her movement.

“Also, next time, you should light a fire under the beehive,” she teased.

_She probably thinks I’m an idiot._

“I didn’t mean to startle you earlier,” he mentioned while lifting himself from his stool, holding his shirt in front of him.

“Oh don’t worry about it. I just haven’t seen you in a while and I wasn’t sure who might be coming through those trees,” Zelda explained.

Link let out a soft grunt. He should still be near the river, building Zelda’s shelter. She had been homeless for the bulk of a year, and his mishap would further delay his construction of her home. He lifted his arms and stretched out his shirt in order to pull it over his head, but the sound of Zelda’s voice stopped him.

“Wait! You’ll want to wait until that dries so it doesn’t get all over your shirt,” she exclaimed. 

“Thank you. Sorry to inconvenience you like this, ” he responded, lowering his arms.

“It’s no problem, Link…” she explained, her tone reassuring. “So I have to ask the selfish question… Did you get any honey?” Zelda inquired.

Link let out a chuckle. “No, but I’ll get some next time.” 

“Please sit here and relax until it dries,” she insisted. “I’m going to go and start getting dinner ready,” she decided and headed towards their farm to get ingredients for the upcoming meal.

She left Link hurriedly, and looked behind her when she was certain there was enough in between them to block his view of her. She exhaled sharply, bending her arms upwards to clasp her hands at her heart.

_He’s really… grown,_ she observed, closing her eyes as she imagined the definition in Link’s arms and back. She stood against a tree, granting herself time in order to lower her heart rate. She replayed their recent encounter in her head, dwelling on the memory of the feeling of his skin. A warm sensation rushed through her body, and she thought back to the day they performed the Wing Ceremony together. While they were out flying afterwards, she was going to tell him something…

She walked to their garden, situated by the river from which Link retrieves clay. Their lives for over a month now have existed within a few square kilometers. Until they reach a higher level of civilization and stability, they were to remain near the Sealed Temple and what they had dubbed the East River. She pulled some leafy greens, rinsed them, and walked back towards the temple. On her passage, she picked two handfuls of berries to contribute to their meal.

A fire was waiting for Zelda as she approached their cooking site, along with a fully-clothed Link. She prepared their plates with the food she had just retrieved and added some greens and dried meat from their stash. They shared solace in not needing to cook this particular evening. Their seats were still close to each other from earlier, and they made little effort in separating them.

_Just one night to relax_ , Link told himself. He would be up early anyways.

They discussed the meal in front of them, and debated on the best method to consume honey. When they shared their respective day’s activities, Zelda had a question.

“So, tell me about this house you’re building. Where is it?” She inquired. “Of course I trust your judgement, but I’m curious!” With this last statement, she balanced her plate on her lap and joined her palms. 

“Oh! It’s right across the river—I found a spot to cross where the river gets thin and maybe we can make a bridge eventually. I wanted the west side to be against the tree line so the house only gets morning heat,” he prattled. “Eventually, we’ll have to move the garden, er, farm, and the ducks but that can be done gradually.”

“That sounds great,” Zelda said warmly. “Could I see it some time?”

“Yeah… definitely,” he paused in between words. “As of now, it’s just a pile of logs and felled trees but I can take you tomorrow.” 

“I would like that,” she affirmed, closing her eyes briefly and smiling. “Thank you for all you do.”

Zelda, more accurately, Hylia was the reason Link was able to care for Zelda at all. In creating Fi, Hylia had instilled a range of knowledge and skills to help the hero: from time-telling to tool building. During Link’s travels, he sometimes was subjected to days without access to bird travel and was required to fend on his own. 

The pair conversated more, sharing stories and observations about the people and things of Skyloft. This was the longest they had talked since deciding to stay on the Surface. Neither of them mentioned it. Recalling their conversation a few days back, Zelda’s curiosity piqued once more regarding Karane.

“I wonder how Karane and Pipit got together,” Zelda pondered aloud.

“Funny you should ask…” Link began. The sky dimmed during his retelling of the events that led up to the pair confessing their love. He studied how the light of the fire began to cast itself on Zelda’s frame. He thought how much he liked her new outfit, her red headband contrasting with her beautiful, golden locks. He appreciated how her belt accented the lines of her waist. Her eyes sparkled with the glow of the fire. He wanted to reach out and touch her.

Upon completing his story, he swallowed hard and Zelda commented cheerily. Dusk had settled and they were long finished with their meal.

“It’s probably time to go in,” Link suggested.

* * *

Zelda awoke to the soft trill of Link’s voice. 

“Hey, time to get up,” she heard. 

She opened her eyes and smiled lightly, relishing his melodic words. She arose, dressed, cleaned her teeth and packed an axe, rope, and some food for their trek. Once she was prepared, they set out. Link explained they would be walking for about 30 minutes, and that he had caught a fish this morning for breakfast.

_He’s already been to the river and back? When did he get up?_ Zelda wondered.

They walked upstream to a short stretch in which the river crimps, providing easy access across. Link stepped over the rocks straddling the river and outstretched his hand to provide Zelda support. When they reached the building site, Link explained the details about the site they had discussed over dinner the night before. They cooked the fish, ate and started on their day’s task of chopping more wood. Zelda would split logs in half, and Link would fell more trees.

Link raised his axe, swung it down, and toppled to the ground with it.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	5. Chapter 5

_Who’s talking?_

_Are they yelling?_

_Did I do something wrong?_

_Why does my shoulder hurt?_

_Is Zelda okay?_

_Where is she?_

_Oh, Gods, please tell me she’s okay._

_Maybe this person can tell me where she is… what are they saying? Pin? King? Sink?_

_Link...?_

_Wait… that’s me._

Link shook awake with a sharp inhale through his nose. He should be in the Sealed Temple but he was somewhere outside, and it was the afternoon, and Zelda was holding him.

_Zelda’s holding me,_ he confirmed to himself, looking upwards and blinking hard multiple times to verify his perception.

_Is she crying?_ He noticed as his vision became clearer. _Who the hell made her cry? What happened?_

“What happened? Are you okay?” Link spoke.

“Am I—Link, you fell!” Zelda revealed. Link’s expression remained unchanged, signaling a lack of understanding.

“You fainted!” Zelda exclaimed. Link’s eyebrows furrowed, conjuring up his recent memory. Earlier he brought Zelda to the place he was building her home and he showed her around. Link wondered if they had started working for the day. 

“How are you feeling?” Zelda asked, her voice frantic.

Link pondered his body’s current state. His left shoulder hurt and he had a piercing pain in his head. He concluded he was suffering from a headache as opposed to physical trauma. His thoughts were not completely lucid yet, and he was not prioritizing speed in detecting his new injuries.

“I’m fine,” he replied. “My shoulder is kind of sore, but I’ll make it.”

His senses were overtaken by the scent of the person holding him. The smell of being too late to class so the only seat open was behind Zelda. The smell of the sailcloth Zelda stitched for a promise he made. The smell of holding her hand after she woke up from her thousands of years of sleeping.

He saw tears continue to stream softly down her cheeks and he smiled lightly in an attempt to calm her.

“I think you should lay down for a while. Please, drink some water,” Zelda insisted as she placed a glass bottle in his hand. He complied and propped his body up on one elbow in order to drink. After a couple of sips, he lowered himself back into Zelda’s arms. Her eyebrows were still angled upwards, her mouth slightly agape.

_She’s still worried. How can I get her to stop worrying?_

“Did I look cool when I fell?”

* * *

Zelda splashed her bare feet in the river water. She had rolled her skirt and sleeves up, exposing more of her skin to the early afternoon sun. Link was a few meters away, propped against the base of a tree and sleeping. She was relieved that he had followed her advice to rest, and he had dozed off about an hour ago. The soft flow of water wrapped around her shins and she was grateful the only energy she had to expend was resisting the current. At this moment, there was no wood to chop, seeds to sow or tools to build. Her only responsibility was to absorb the serenity of her surroundings.

She looked down at the clear blanket of water that glided across the ground, mesmerized by its purity. Earlier, she refilled the bottle that Link depleted while he laid in her arms. She looked behind her, at the spot she witnessed him after the fall, and recounted the sequence of events that led to him losing consciousness.

She heard the slam of him shoving an axe into wood, followed by a thud against the grass beneath him. Her head snapped up, directed towards Link’s location, and she saw him lying on his left side, hunched with his knees slightly tucked in. She ran to him, rolled him on his back, and rested his head in her hand. They stayed in this position until he revived, with Zelda hyper-aware of any movement he made or sound he emitted.

The river was acting as a natural remedy to soothe Zelda’s fears. Although not asleep, her temperament reflected Link’s, and she was at ease knowing he was safe. She looked down and smiled, remembering the last question Link had asked her: _Did I look cool when I fell?_ That question transported her back to Skyloft, and merited her to respond with a former nickname she used to call him.

“You _goof!_ ”

Analyzing Link’s shift over the last year, Zelda chuckled. His sense of responsibility and duty were traits still foreign to her, as the Link she grew up with prioritized rest over work. She never expected to go this long without seeing him sleep, and she forgot how much she missed observing his calm face, still body and slow breath. She was tempted to lay beside him and share his relaxation and warmth, but she settled with watching him close by. 

Link stirred awake, this time aware of where he was. Zelda approached him upon hearing him shuffling and he repositioned himself higher against the tree. She sat next to him, offering him more water and a share of food she brought from the temple. They discussed Link’s current condition, and deemed he would be fit to walk back. Zelda prohibited him from attempting strenuous work for the remainder of the day. 

They returned to the Sealed Temple, where Zelda instructed Link to relax _._ They opted for an early dinner again, and set out to forage for more food, with Zelda demanding he not rush before they separated. After she gathered her share, she returned to their fire pit and deposited the food to save for later. She took care of their daily tasks like tending to their waterfowl and watering their garden, and after she bathed dinner was almost finished. Link had already set out plates, and Zelda cracked two fresh duck eggs over the fire to complete their meal.

Once they sat down, Zelda asked, “How are you feeling?”

“I’m doing fine, really. I was a little woozy when I woke up, but all that’s wrong now is a little shoulder pain,” Link explained. 

“Do you still have a headache?” Zelda inquired. 

“Um, no,” he confirmed. 

Zelda had yet to approach the topic yet unspoken: why does he think he fainted? Is he aware of the reason? Is he not concerned? Was it her prerogative to pry?

She watched him intently as he ate, him too involved in his meal to notice her eyes. She could not detect any difference in his movement or speech, but she thought she still had reason to be concerned with his health. Does Link have a tendency to faint that she was unaware of? She stacked the possibilities, but none of them provided sufficient relief. Link was nearing completion of his meal, and Zelda understood she had little time to confront him.

“Do you know why it happened?” She asked.

“Um, I think I’ve just been working too hard. I should probably take more breaks,” he replied.

Zelda thought back to the days prior when he was completely absent. She also judged he could leave later or return earlier instead to accomplish the same purpose of working less. The memory of Link praying at the Goddess Statue resurfaced in her mind. 

“How have you been sleeping?” Zelda asked, heart sinking. She recognized he was withholding information from her.

Link sighed steadily, “Not the best…” he confessed. He looked away, not disclosing any more details.

“Why do you think that is?” Zelda continued. Her facial features gradually tightened with emotion. The burning in her chest caused her to breathe deeply, more purposefully. She dreaded she was going to receive the answer he gave.

“I think the mat is uncomfortable,” he barely got his sentence out before Zelda interjected.

“Link, I saw you at the Goddess Statue the other night,” she admitted. She found no use in circumventing her concerns.

Link stared at her wide-eyed. He hunched over, placing his head in his hands, elbows supported by his legs. Zelda watched as he constricted his body, making himself smaller. His silence prompted further probing from Zelda. Despite his discomfort, she decided their relationship was her business, too. 

“I hadn’t seen you in days before this happened, and I feel like we’ve barely talked since the first night we came to the Surface,” Zelda’s tone became slightly louder and more spirited. “Link, I know you. I know when something’s wrong!” She then paused and said softly, “You can talk to me.”

Link did not contradict her. He remained in his defensive position, mute. 

“Please…” Zelda begged.

Link raised his head and lowered his arms, but stopped short of sitting up completely straight. He looked at Zelda with sorrowful eyes, and she noticed the contrast between his eyes and the rest of his complexion. His eyes were dark and motionless, like they were too heavy for him to move. He stared slightly to the right of Zelda, not meeting her direct gaze.

“I…” he began, voice wavering, “I’ve been having nightmares.”

“Link…” Zelda responded. His admittance did not provide any comfort. She felt she encountered an additional barricade, one that presented a slew of new questions and worries. She pondered what might be burdening him. Link had disclosed so little about his quest on the Surface, and Zelda struggled to find words of sympathy. In a past life, Zelda had lost to Demise, but she only knew the Evil King in her memories. Zelda herself did not oppose Demise, but the thought of his towering frame and fire-red eyes made her shudder.

“I’m so sorry,” was the only phrase she could muster. The one-size-fits-all bandage for any emotional wound. She felt inadequate to heal his pain. “You can always talk to me,” she repeated. 

“Thank you,” Link said, generating a faint smile. The smile looked displaced from his weary eyes. Zelda felt her chest tighten as she looked upon his strained expression. She extracted the truth from him, now it was her turn to act. 

“We still have some daylight! Could you take me somewhere?” She implored.

* * *

The pair sat next to a high other, legs hanging off of the side of a cliff face. They were high enough to see a sea of green trees extending out to the horizon. Only at high elevations could they process the vastness of the land they inherited—the land they shed blood, tears and their past identities to reclaim. Neither of them felt deserving of this space, this entire world, as they pondered what power they possessed to influence it. Either of them could traverse the entirety of Skyloft in an afternoon, but neither of them could grasp what lay unknown to them on the Surface.

Earlier, Zelda requested he take her to a high place where they could sit like this—their legs dropping to oblivion. It reminded her of the days they spent lounging on the edge of Skyloft, where only the bravest kids would hang their feet over. Zelda assumed this is where her fascination with the Surface originated, as it was one of the only ways she felt unchained to the confines of Skyloft. Although she spent countless hours imagining, she could have never thought of what waited for her beneath the clouds.

“What do you miss about Skyloft?” Zelda asked. She was no stranger to voicing intimate questions.

“Pumpkins, training with Eagus. Knowing where everything is,” he replied, chuckling at his last reply. 

“You still have your sword from him, right?” She implored, referring to Eagus. “Why don’t we make you your own training camp here?” 

“Yeah… I’d like that,” Link agreed. “What about you?” 

“Hmm…” Zelda pondered her options. “I miss my father. I miss having simple goals like making good grades or memorizing ceremonial songs. Our futures were cut out for us in Skyloft, and now we have to forge our own path and find our own purpose.” She finished her reasoning, looking out at the canopy that stretched out before them. She then turned her head to smile at Link, who replicated her expression. She looked down at her knees and concluded, “I… I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“I don’t really know how to ask this... “ Link prefaced, “How do you, um, handle being Hylia reborn?” He looked away, hoping to distance himself from the words he uttered.

Zelda lifted her head and observed the setting in front of her, hoping the sky and trees would lend her some inspiration. She contemplated her answer, blinking and opening and closing her mouth in deep thought.

“I think… Well, certainly my situation is unique. Living two lives, I have no choice but to compare the two,” she started. “As Hylia, I had many things that I, Zelda, strived for: immeasurable knowledge of the Surface, and access to the entire world and beyond. But that life equates with my downfall. I still have challenges coming to terms with how I lost most of my people, my people who I cherished above all else, to Demise’s atrocities.” 

Zelda gulped hard in an attempt to moisten her dry throat and tilted her chin upwards. She breathed out deeply to brace herself for voicing her next idea.

“But, I gave myself a chance at a new life in being reborn as a mortal. I realize now how much there is to envy when time places constraints on your existence. There were some things that Hylia couldn’t do. Well, really that no god could do,” she said, refocusing her eyes on Link. He returned her glance with a look of confusion.

“Hylia… She granted me these sweet memories of her past,” she reiterated, placing a hand on her chest and looking down. “Because she was immortal, she was also faced with the loss of these things she held so dear, and it would have been futile to get attached to a specific individual or thing.”

Zelda turned to meet Link’s gaze. Those big, inviting eyes she had watched her whole life. Throughout their upbringing and growth, he was the one constant in her life. Her one dream that could come close to rivaling her desire to reach the Surface.

“I know now that I have the greatest privilege of any being, man or god,” she declared. “I have the privilege of being in--”


	6. Chapter 6

“I have the privilege of being in—”

Before Zelda could complete her sentence, there was a hard collision of skin on skin next to her. Link reeled back, smacking his palm to his forehead with a grimace stretched across his face. He grunted loudly in distress, and brought a second hand up to his face in an attempt to generate some relief. 

Zelda lurched to the side to steady him, to lead him off of the edge of the cliff side. If they had been in Skyloft, a Knight would surely catch them before they plummeted to the ground. They had no such luxury here. 

Link tucked his knees in and rolled to the side. His wincing eventually subsided, signaling the end of the worst pain. 

“Link! Are you okay?” Zelda asked after her initial shock weaned. Her question was met with silence. Link’s back was to her, with his body curled in front of him. 

She could not see his face, and therefore could not determine his condition. She inched over slightly to improve her vantage point, and began to lean over his curled figure. As she was about to glimpse his face, he ducked further forward and sprang up suddenly. He darted behind a tree, and Zelda heard the distinct wail that accompanies emptying stomach contents. 

She averted her gaze from the direction of the noise and stared wide-eyed at the ground. She hesitated drawing attention to the situation, and was more inclined to offer him privacy. Since she could not see Link, she depended on her ears to tell her when he stopped retching. She studied the blades of grass beneath her as a distraction. 

Silence enveloped the pair, and Zelda heard a soft thud on the ground, followed by an exasperated sigh. No words passed Link’s lips as he gulped air, reacquainting himself with regular breathing. Zelda cautiously lifted her head towards Link’s position, but a tree blocked her view of him. She feared for his well-being, but her body was stiff and her muscles would not move.

She whispered, “Link.” He coughed. Zelda did not know if his sound was acknowledgement or coincidence. She paused expectantly for an additional response, but received none.

“Can I come over by you?” Zelda asked. She wanted nothing more than to rub his back and tell him everything is okay. As long as they were together, they would be okay.

No answer.

Zelda prompted him again for a response, “Link…”

“I’d like to go back,” he replied. 

“O—okay,” she complied. They stood up, and Link proceeded in front of Zelda. Walking back to the Sealed Temple took them a half an hour, and they completed the passage with sparse conversation. On their trek, Zelda ensured to pick leaves and flowers that could be brewed into a calming tea for him.

As the Goddess Statue came into their view, dusk began to fall. Less light filtered through the trees above them with each step, and Zelda figured she would have to wait until tomorrow to make his beverage. She was careful to not make plans after dark, as their lives were now dictated by the rise and fall of the sun. Sometimes, she coveted the days where she could roam around at night, unafraid of consequences. Even if they stayed near the temple, the lack of light could cause too many possibilities of injury. Torch-making was on the bottom of their list of current duties.

They returned to the Sealed Temple and performed their nightly routines. After Zelda had cleaned her teeth and removed her excess clothing, she sat on her sleeping mat with her back against the cool stone wall. She could see stars through a hole in their ceiling, the hole they deemed their alarm clock. When simply observing them became boring, Zelda counted the stars visible to her. She wondered how far away she could travel and see the same stars.

Zelda’s attention was diverted when Link entered through the back door. He sauntered towards his sleeping mat, removed his belt, tunic, boots and gloves and laid down facing away from Zelda. Still sitting upright, she stared at the back of his head, his mane that never seemed to be fully kempt, no matter how carefully he brushed. She would only have to inch forward slightly to run her fingers through his hair, to feel his soft locks gliding against her skin. 

She lifted her head and refocused on the ceiling to resist reaching out to him. Her imagination would have to suffice for now.

“You can’t catch a break these past couple of days,” Zelda mentioned.

Link stirred slightly—hearing her voice past dark was a rarity. He agreed without turning over, “Um, yeah.”

“I know I’ve asked you this a million times in the past day, but how are you?” She inquired. 

Link rolled onto his back, substituting eye contact with Zelda for staring at the aged stone above him. He cleared his throat and answered, “I’m doing alright.”

Zelda recalled the herbs and flowers she had gathered, “I picked some stuff to make you a tea, but I’ll wait till tomorrow morning. I think we should prioritize rest now. And I wouldn’t want you to have to get up to pee,” she joked.

“I really appreciate that,” Link stated, glancing at her momentarily. 

Their whole lives, Link was not one to divulge in his problems. He had always been under the impression that if he left a problem alone, it would eventually disappear. He owed Zelda for their close relationship—she was the only person who was able to pry him open and show his true feelings. Since they were kids, her insistence for him to talk induced him to be vulnerable. To this day, he still needed her persuasion to uncover his true feelings.

“Do… Do you get sick when we’re not together?” Zelda asked, voice cracking. Link peered at his friend, and the starshine revealed tears welling in her eyes.

Zelda was one of the few residents of Skyloft who wanted to listen. She did not want to use Link’s issues as gossip fodder—she truly cared about his successes, his failures, and she often stretched herself to make him feel comfortable. Link felt completely content drifting through life without imposing his emotions on anyone else, but Zelda challenged him to open up and to place the same importance on his problems that she did.

“No. No, that was the first time,” Link explained, referring to his earlier purge. 

Although Zelda was not in his current view, he could tell she had dropped her head to ask the next question. Her voice did not project, it almost seemed like she did not wish to be heard. She asked, “Is it… Related to your nightmares?”

Link closed his eyes, pretending that he could not be seen. Shutting his eyes offered a brief respite from reality, from Zelda’s caring pressure. 

“I um… I think it is,” Link responded, swallowing hard. He heard a sniffle to his left. Zelda was crying. His own chest tightened—he grimaced at the thought of causing Zelda’s tears. This is what he dreaded most: his troubles affecting her. 

“Link,” she choked out, “I’m so sorry.” She buried her face in her hands and sobbed. Link scrambled and sat upright to demonstrate his full attention and concern being on Zelda. 

He reached out to console her, “Hey, it’s okay…”

“Link. I didn’t think about  _ you  _ when I devised my plan. When Demise defeated me millennia ago… I didn’t have the time to think about the details. The horrors you would face on your journey… how they may affect you,” Zelda spoke frantically. “It was all hypothetical: there would be a hero who would liberate the Surface alongside me in my mortal form.”

Zelda looked up at Link, who was now sitting at the edge of her mat. His face was twisted in grief. 

“But now that someone has a face and a name, and I realize my mistake. I used you to protect the Surface and the people of Skyloft. I needed someone with an indomitable spirit to complete the task… but I didn’t think about what would happen after,” she wept. She closed her eyes and trembled, breathing unevenly.

“I’m so sorry. I was selfish. I know this is your battle to fight, but please, Link, let me help you,” she begged. “This is my fault.”

Link strained to place a hand on her arm. She looked down at his touch, and back up at his face, her eyes leaking with sorrow.

“I don’t mean to make this about me, Link, but please, you’re not alone,” she continued. “Please, you can talk to me.”

They stared at each other, faces distorted by misery. Link clenched his jaw and shifted his body to ease some of his stiffness. No monster, no evil could upset him compared to the sight of Zelda’s tears.

“It doesn’t matter what happened, what you saw or what you did. You can tell me. I promise I won’t judge—”

“Zelda,” Link interjected. “It’s okay. Your plan was perfect. I understand why Hylia, or you chose me.” He smiled softly at her in an attempt to provide reassurance. “I mean, the only other person who was willing to help was Groose, and even that was a surprise,” he said lightly, forcing a laugh. She gazed at him, suppressing her sobs, reluctant to speak before further clarification.

“Your plan was perfect,” he reiterated. “The only thing that came short was me. I wish I was faster, more prepared. I wish I wasn’t late for you. I wish I could have protected you better. I should have been able to fulfill my entire destiny, to be by your side when you visited the spirit springs.” 

Zelda’s face softened with understanding. She began to reclaim control over her breaths as her mind slowed.

“No, please…” she began.

“You must have really been scraping the bottom of the barrel in your choices for a hero,” he remarked playfully. “Sure, I’ve always been good with a sword, but I spent my life not really concerned with any other responsibilities. It took me a while to hit a stride, to figure out what I was even doing on the Surface. I can’t imagine the fear and loneliness you endured before Impa came to your rescue.”

“Link, no, everything is fine,” Zelda pleaded for his relief.

“I told myself I would never leave you wanting again. That you would never have to worry about your safety. That I would make sure you had everything you needed, whenever you needed it,” he explained.

Zelda gazed into his eyes with her pools of blue that used to provide him with unmatched comfort. The eyes that he anticipated seeing every morning as he trudged out of his dormitory. He would not dare smile at her displeasure, but that was the only thing he wanted to do when Zelda used to gripe about his laziness. He would just listen, and get lost in her beautiful blues. 

Her eyes were now a reminder of his shortcomings. Reminders of the pain from which he could not protect her.

“Link, it’s my responsibility to contribute, too. We’re a team down here, you can always ask for my help instead of going off on your own. Please, let me carry some of the burden. I need you to take care of yourself. I need you here with me,” she pleaded, clenching her fists and scrunching her face. 

“Can you please sleep in tomorrow, for me?” She was becoming desperate searching for solutions. Anything to alleviate his pain.

Link lowered his head steadily, his lips shaking. Zelda recognized that earlier she falsely assumed what had been conflicting him. She needed to let him set his own path of recovery.

“How can I help?” She inquired.

“Ghirahim’s ritual,” Link said. Zelda cocked her head to the side, trying to uncover meaning in his answer.

“I don’t—” she started. 

Link raised his head, a sullen expression across his face. If hopelessness attached itself to a body, this was it.

“I’ve been trying to think of how to get better, how to forget and forgive myself, but every time I’m around you,” he expressed, blinking tears from his eyes, “I think of how I let him take you.”

They paused, either one unable to move. 

“When I try to sleep at night, I just hear,” he sucked in sharply, surrendering to his anguish, “I hear your screams.” He exhaled, sobbing. “I watched as he used you… used your body as a pawn for his scheme.

I’ll never forgive myself.” 


	7. Chapter 7

_Her plan was infallible._

_If death was inevitable: become reborn as a mortal._

_Travel back in time to hold evil’s seal. Assign a skilled fighter as your chosen hero._

_Even better: a skilled fighter who is in love with you._

_But when the Evil King is vanquished, what happens after the dust settles? What happens to the young man and woman from Skyloft?_

_What if you are injured so badly that memories of your suffering gnaw at your chosen hero every time he looks at you? What if he feels responsible?_

_What then?_

_Your plan was for the good of all, right?_

* * *

“If only…” Zelda uttered. _If only what?_ She thought. _If only I had thought to make Fi stronger? If only I stayed asleep forever?_

Underneath her regret and sorrow lied betrayal. Betrayal of the old gods, and the goddess with whom she shares an identity. 

Zelda, along with all of the people of Skyloft, prayed diligently to Hylia. They held celebrations in her honor, made her offerings, revered her might and benevolence. She had dedicated her life to Hylia, accepting her role as the goddess reborn. After all, Hylia was the reason they received a chance at life after all: she sent her people into the sky for protection.

_Who suffered from that plan?_ Zelda wondered. There were two opposite yet equal forces quarreling within herself: an overwhelming urge to stay and to go. She wanted to throw herself onto Link, to cradle him in her arms. The other side of her wanted to see how far away her legs could take her. Despite her impulses, her body stayed still.

“I’m so sorry…” was all she could muster. She wrapped herself in her arms and looked at the ground since she could no longer bear to see Link.

Zelda clenched her jaw to hold back a question that she had suppressed since the moment Link agreed to stay on the Surface. She contemplated the energy and work they had put into establishing a home beneath the clouds. She had developed an expectation of always being a little hungry and sore, but she readily accepted this change. Slightly over a month ago, their labor seemed valid. She was not so certain anymore.

She was stunned; she could not believe that she had not considered this outcome. For a year, she struggled, fled and fought, but not once did she cease envisioning an ideal aftermath. She saw her and Link inheriting the Surface with the world as their backyard. As soon as she encountered Link at the Earth Spring, she knew she had appointed the right hero.

Zelda stuttered her question, “Do you want to go back?” She meant to add _to Skyloft_ but choking back a sob prevented her from finishing. She hoped he would understand and she squeezed herself tighter.

“Zelda…” she heard. Following her name, she felt a hand touch hers. This hand led her to move an arm away from her torso, and another hand was placed on top of hers. She looked in front of her, confirming these hands belonged to Link. His hand gently squeezed hers, and some tension in her body loosened. She became increasingly aware of the drumming in her chest.

“No. I don’t,” Link stated, his gaze unwavering. “First off, I don’t even know if those bird statues still work,” he mentioned.

Zelda sniffed hard. Tears lined her cheeks.

Link softly grunted. He swallowed hard, deliberating what to say next. 

“And even if they did work… I don’t want to leave you,” he declared. 

Zelda closed her eyes, damming the flow of tears temporarily. Although the pair was physically together, a distinct divide existed between her and Link. Link chose to not leave Zelda on the Surface, but Zelda did not consider him fully returned since their journeys. In the past month, Link had revealed glimpses of his former self—easygoing and carefree—but Zelda missed a defining feature of his from childhood: his tendency to always be near her.

“But… you haven’t really been around,” she articulated. 

Link cleared his throat. He fondled Zelda’s hand in his own.

“Yeah… I know,” he confessed. “I thought these thoughts would go away, but…”

“Have they gotten worse?” Zelda suggested.

“Yeah,” Link stated, watching his hands hold hers. “I… I’ve been trying to think of what to do. Most of the time the answer is ‘chop more wood.’”

As Zelda’s distress subsided, she regained control of her body and joined both of her hands with his. She realized she had been witness to his deterioration: every instance that she suspected he was avoiding her was due to desperation. Praying to Hylia’s statue and overworking himself had been coping methods. 

She felt cheated. They had fulfilled their destinies, they had defeated the evil that plagued the Surface and the skies. Should they not be able to live happily? Were they not owed that much in return for their suffering?

Zelda brushed her thumbs across Link’s palms, rough and uneven from daily exertion. She pondered their options, with each sway of her fingers, a possible solution would come and go. She wondered if it hurt him to be this close, to touch her. Did her hands provide him comfort or pain? 

She wished for a reality that they could touch freely, where tragedy did not bring them closest. Her mind churned and churned.

“I know you did all you could,” Zelda uttered. “I don’t hold any resentment towards you.”

Link choked on his voice. He muttered, “I just wish… my all could have been better.”

Zelda stood abruptly and took a few steps, facing away from Link. He vacantly watched her, exhausted by their dialogue.

In Zelda’s mind, she separated her two selves: Zelda and Hylia. Zelda could not have done this to Link. If Hylia had only grown up alongside him, she maybe would have spared him. Maybe she would have chosen someone else as her hero. 

“Her hero…” she started. “It’s not fair!” Link shifted so Zelda’s frame was fully in view, her silhouette outlined by the dull glow of the stars.

“I don't know whether to be angry at Hylia or… _me_!” Zelda shrieked, her arms conducting the intonations of her voice. She placed a palm on her forehead and resumed weeping. Questions about her purpose and identity flooded her mind. Since she regained her memories as Hylia, it seemed natural for her to embody two separate beings. Now, she was at war with her past self.

“She had no idea!” She announced, removing her hand from her face, inviting anyone to hear her. “She had no idea what it’s like to—” she stopped herself. No good would come out of a confession now. She did not want Link to feel undue pressure—the pressure to reciprocate one’s deepest emotions.

She turned to see him slowly rising from the floor. He stood up and approached her, getting close enough to see details of her face despite the lack of illumination around them. He remained in front of her, motionless, giving Zelda the impression that his only motive was to merely stand there. 

Link’s tendency to be reticent had long elicited Zelda to keep talking. Often, Link’s silence was his way of saying _keep going_ , to encourage Zelda to dispense all of her thoughts.

“I just think you deserve better. I wanted us to…” she trailed off, leaning her head down to place it in a hand. She wanted to hide—from Link, from herself and her destiny.

“Zelda…” Link began. “I don’t know who to blame, Hylia, Demise, myself. But… she may be able to help me.”

Zelda’s head perked up. She was confused at his proposal— _she_ was Hylia. Zelda was their connection to the goddess.

“The spirit springs… During my travels, I used some spring water to heal Faron. Hylia also stored her memories in the springs to give to you. Maybe… the springs can do something for me, too.”

Zelda inhaled sharply—she assumed he would request her to stay at the Sealed Grounds. He would leave her, and there is no guarantee his plan would be successful. She was certain he would be able to complete the journey, but without a Loftwing, it would take months.

“You asked me if I wanted to go back to Skyloft and… I meant it when I said no. I would rather travel to the ends of the world. Again.”

Despite her feet being planted on the floor, Zelda was convinced she was floating. Her body became numb, save for the sensation of her heart pounding. 

Link continued, “There’s nothing back there for me. Nothing that’s worth leaving you.”

Time stopped for Zelda. She suddenly became parched yet she was unable to move to quench her thirst. Her face burned red hot and she was thankful for the damp night air.

“Are you going alone?” She choked out. Since he said he was not leaving her, Zelda questioned the validity of this claim.

“I… I think I have to,” he declared. Zelda did not need an explanation; she understood why. At least now there would be a concrete reason for his absence.

“We’ve got a pretty good start here. I want you to be comfortable,” he stated. “It’s just… for a year, I only thought about you and your safety, and now all of these questions and thoughts are catching up to me. I need some sort of healing, closure…”

His traits made him the ideal hero, but Link’s selflessness proved to be his own downfall. Zelda wondered if this could have possibly been avoided, and if Hylia had selected the correct motive for her hero. She regretted not yet telling him she felt the same.

“How do you know it will work?” Zelda interrogated. 

Link hesitated. “I don’t but… I’m thinking it’s my best bet.”

Zelda’s chest swelled with anguish. She cursed her naïveté, the presumption that their relationship would return to normal after their long fight against Demise. 

She asked, “When will you leave?”

“Probably tomorrow morning. I don’t think I should wait,” Link replied.

“I’ll miss you,” Zelda squeaked. She could barely utter sounds as she grappled with reality differing from her expectations.

“I’ll be back,” he expressed, lightly clutching Zelda’s upper arms. He cleared his throat and locked eyes with her.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been open with you,” Link admitted. “And thank you for slowing me down these past couple of days.” He inhaled steadily.

“I know things are so different than what they were in Skyloft, but since you’re Hylia, I had to be your hero.” 

Link squeezed her arms tighter, but maintained care in his grip. The harder he held her, the less she felt she was able to breathe. 

“I didn’t take most things seriously back in Skyloft, but… I always cared about us. Before we left… I was going to use my knighthood to prove to your father that I was good enough for you. I want us to be together more than anything. And I promise, we will be. There’s no other way.

“Hylia chose me because I love you, Zelda. I love you and knowing that I could have prevented your pain tears me apart.”

A hot wave rushed throughout Zelda’s body. Her first instinct was to doubt she heard him correctly. Every cell in her body was lit was on fire, starting from her chest and spreading to her limbs. She felt like she could melt ice with just a touch. Her legs were weak—no, wait—they were strong, unmovable, and then weak again. She was shaking, she was still. She had imagined this situation a million separate times in her mind, but this was the most perfect outcome: it was real. Although he would be gone in the morning, he was here now, with her.

More important than their destinies, their duty to the gods, or their past suffering was this moment. They were no longer bound to the fate of mankind, but to Zelda their love held more significance. The world could crumble around them, but if they were together, that is all that mattered.

Her eyes fluttered, matching her heart.

“I love you, too.”

  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y’ALL this chapter was so hard to write for me. Hope it paid off!!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In a very “me” fashion, I started something without thinking it all the way through. The story is going in a completely different direction now and I had to take a little longer to develop the plot. As always, hope you enjoy reading!
> 
> Also CW: blood in this chapter

“Link, no! What are you doing?” Zelda called. There was a tone of annoyance in her question, like this was not the first time she had asked this. Because it was not. 

“Link, stop! Cut it out!” Her voice grew sharper in her requests. “We do this every day!” 

The human Link had departed to the Skyview Spring weeks ago, the Link that Zelda was currently referring to was a duck. Link the duck was nibbling on the bottom hem of Zelda’s skirt. She shook her leg gently to disincentivize the bird from bothering her.

She was in the middle of her daily routine of freeing the ducks from their coop so she could feed them, clean and collect eggs. Link, the human, and her had domesticated four ducks, which Zelda had since named Link, Zelda, Impa and Fi. Zelda acknowledged that giving ducks human names was abnormal, but it gave her the impression she was communicating with someone—that she was not completely and utterly alone. 

When she first fell to the earth beneath the clouds, she had the voice of Hylia guiding her through her journey and channeling her dreams. The fear, excitement and wonder kept her vigilant and stimulated. She had also met many different creatures on her journey—Kikwis and Mogmas—but in her current location, she completely lacked company. The Kikwi’s habitat was days away, and her sole outlet for conversation was her ducks. 

Link was right: they had a solid foundation for life in their small habitat. She adopted a strict schedule: after sunrise, she woke up, released their ducks and fed them, tended to their garden, chopped wood, cooked, ate, washed and made tools or supplies as needed. On the rare occasion, she would have time to play harp and sing. Nostalgia would draw her to sing the Goddess’ Ballad. Longing would compel her to cry.

The night before Link left, they had confessed their love for each other. They stood, holding each other, Link with his hands around her forearms, and Zelda with her hands on Link’s chest. She placed a soft kiss on his cheek, retracted, and they held each other for what felt like hours. Zelda rested her forehead on his shoulder and they wept together silently. He was gone before she rose the next day.

They had divided Link’s weapons between them before he set off. Zelda kept the Digging Mitts, Gust Bellows, net and slingshot to utilize for her daily tasks. She was grateful that these tools lessened her toiling, but she missed days that were not exclusively dedicated to surviving.

Sometimes, if she had gathered enough food in the days before, she would treat herself to exploring the area surrounding the Sealed Grounds. She never allowed herself to venture out more than an hour’s radius from the temple, and when she was done with her duties on this particular day, she had enough time allotted for leisure. Her plan today was to visit the cliff side where her and Link sat the day before he departed.

Zelda perched herself on the edge of the cliff, taking in the green that stretched to the horizon. She saw treetops, fields, and the faint outline of a river in the distance. The treetops could have been mistaken for green clouds, thick and full. The leaves shimmered against the wind, and the breeze lifted her golden tresses. She felt a chill to the back of her neck, where the wind swept across the sweat under her hair.

_I'm really the goddess of all of this,_ Zelda reminded herself. She thought of her previous life, dedicated to protecting all the beings of the Surface. For thousands of years, she watched her world prosper from the Sacred Realm. There were whispers among the Sheikah about signs of a dark magic emerging, but no man nor god could have predicted the timing and destruction of Demise’s attack.

From the day Demise was defeated, Zelda had remained within the confines of their settlement. Near the Sealed Grounds is where they kept their tools for survival; there was no necessity to venture out further. Except Zelda felt a duty to serve those beyond herself. It proved to be difficult to serve others when her basic needs were barely met.

_A goddess tethered to her temple._

Zelda had survived on her own travelling to the spirit springs, but now she felt obliged to maintain the home she and Link worked so hard to build. She could not decide if stability was truly beneficial. She had been living the same day on repeat for weeks, and she wondered if she had any further influence or responsibility to this world. The Triforce was safe, but was there any present threat to it? She doubted she was actively protecting it.

As she looked out at the vast stretch of land, she pondered _what_ may be a threat. She was unaware if any of the races on the Surface knew of the Triforce’s existence. If anyone from Skyloft settled beneath the clouds, would they be tempted by its power? 

Examining a distant field from her vantage point, Zelda plotted an imaginary Skyloft. _Or Groundloft,_ she jested. _The Knight Academy would go there, the neighborhood over here, the Bazaar…_ she visualized. She felt a lingering sense of incompleteness. She had not found the answer to how the Surface would prosper with only two of her race on it.

To the people of Skyloft, the Surface was a desolate, horrifying place. Legends and tales of the Surface were comprised of death and suffering—potent fuel for children’s scary stories. As the residents of Skyloft aged, talk of the Surface largely subsided, a world beyond Skyloft became a faint afterthought. No one in recorded history had penetrated the clouds, so there was no need to worry about what lied beneath.

_Besides,_ Zelda thought, _they would all have to start from scratch, too._ If her duty was to protect her people, she figured they would be most comfortable in Skyloft. Skyloft is home to their families, businesses and memories. She looked down at her rough hands and rolled her aching shoulders. They would be subjected to a world without luxuries as well.

Zelda breathed a heavy sigh. She rose to her feet to return to the Sealed Temple for the evening. Her next few tasks consisted of washing herself, leading the ducks back into their pen and preparing dinner. Near dusk, she used to reliably count on seeing Link, but now the only thing that was guaranteed to her was solitude.

Their fire pit was in the same order as the day Link left. Every night since then, she would sit on her designated side of the flame to eat, facing a vacant seat. Zelda’s heart ached for her companion. She had recently begun speaking to Fi before going to sleep to pray for Link’s safety and healing. Tonight, she prayed for him to make haste.

* * *

Zelda seethed and sucked in air through her teeth. A pointed fragment of wood had broken off into her palm, embedding itself deep in her skin. She pushed down on her hand above the protrusion to ease the stinging, and braced herself for removing it. Dropping to her knees, she breathed in sharply and pinched the tip of the splinter. With her exhale, she pulled the wood out of her hand, inviting a stream of blood along with it.

She continued kneeling, applying pressure near the opening in her flesh. When the pain somewhat subsided, she rose and started towards the Sealed Temple, abandoning the logs she had been cutting. 

_That means I only have enough wood for one night’s fire,_ she thought during her route back, _I’ll probably need to let it heal for a few days._

_How did I let myself get so far behind?_

She knew the answer to her question: she hated chopping wood. 

After washing and dressing her wound, she sat outside of the temple, giving herself a moment to relax. She chastised herself for not being more cautious; she knew to never grab split logs from the inside. The throbbing in her hand served as a tangible reminder. She sighed, a thought persisting, _I know better._

She decided it was time to start gathering food for the evening. Limited use of one hand would certainly slow her pace. She retreated into the forest near the Sealed Grounds to forage for berries, plants and mushrooms. 

As Zelda finished digging out a hearty root, she was compelled to extract the plant next to it as well. At times, she forgot that she was only fending for herself, that no one else currently depended on her. She thought back to the board that she had been keeping track of time on; on the Surface, a wood slab and the scrape of a rock substituted for a calendar. She had scraped the board 20 times since Link left for the Skyview Spring. Three weeks he had been gone, and if he found the answers he sought at Skyview, he would return in a week. If he had to travel to the Earth Spring and back, Zelda’s solitude could extend for months.

Zelda wiped her nose on her sleeve. She held back tears; crying would not make him move faster. She tilted her head up, refocusing her attention on the canopy above her. Wind travelled through the treetops and she watched sections of leaves wave in unison. She could not resist thinking of Link’s hair—soft locks tossed by the wind. Just one look, one touch of his could keep her going for another three weeks, even longer. She was still seeking motivation outside of his return. 

When she finished collecting dinner, she went to the river to wash herself and her clothes, then to the duck pen to secure them for the night. Her and Link trained the four previously unnamed ducks to return right before dusk. The exchange of fresh eggs for food and shelter seemed to please both parties. She tossed some food in the structure to coax back Link, Zelda, Impa and Fi.

“Hello Link! Hello Zelda!” She cooed while the ducks waddled up, “Link, no, go in the pen. Come on. You’re just mad I gave you a boy’s name.” 

She closed the door of the pen, locking the two ducks inside. She sat down to wait for the other two, occupying herself by watching the flow of the river in front of her. With her extra time waiting, she told the ducks about her day, pretending their quacking expressed understanding.

“Where are Impa and Fi?” She wondered aloud, noticing the sunlight receding.

_I can’t stay much longer,_ she told herself.

“Did you see them today?” She asked towards the pen.

_Quack._

Thinking of her options, she curled in her lips. If she waited any longer, she may not have enough light to traverse through the forest leading back to the Sealed Temple.

“I really shouldn’t wait much longer,” she declared, looking up at the sky. 

_Quack._

“I hope they come back tomorrow.”

They did not. Nor the next day or the day after that.

On the third night, her denial broke. Impa and Fi were gone. The irony tore at her heart.

_I could’ve… done_ something. _Maybe if we made a whole enclosure. They would never have had to leave. I could’ve saved them._

Zelda closed her eyes and breathed in through her nose. She filled her chest with air to counteract the sudden sharpness.

_No, they’re wild animals, there’s nothing I could have done._

She breathed out, resting her forehead in one of her hands. 

_I couldn’t have even protected my ducks from predators. What kind of goddess am I?_

Zelda turned to secure the pen for the remaining two ducks, hitting her injured palm on the corner of the door after it was shut. She grunted and fell to her knees. Before the collision, the pain in her hand had been reduced to a dull soreness, if anything at all. She had underestimated its sensitivity. 

“Oh my _gods_!” She shrieked, clutching her injured hand.

_I really am powerless._

“Link… Could I have helped you?

Please… Come back soon.” 


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We explore Link’s childhood in this chapter.
> 
> CW: death

Link bounded atop of a boulder, nimbly scaling the stone with calculated perfection. A running start got him halfway up the rock, and he finished the ascent in three climbs. He stood tall on the formation, looking around him to gather his bearings. He took out his map of the area and studied its contents. He was travelling southwest, away from the Skyview Spring.

After he determined his location, he let his shoulders fall. Sleeping poorly had taken a toll on him—no access to Skyloft on this journey meant no comfortable rest, no access to necessities. In the time it took him to examine his map, his muscles processed his recent climb. His body screamed, _You could have done that slower._

Link expected his sleep would improve after his visit to the Skyview Spring, but since then, he had not detected any difference. He spent the bulk of a day there, praying for healing, for answers. 

“ _Hylia, in no way do I feel like you are indebted to me, but I must ask for your help._

_When I’m not having nightmares, I lie awake thinking what I could have done better, what I did wrong. How I let Zelda get hurt._

_She… she could have died. Because I couldn’t protect her._

_Was I really the right choice?”_

When he received no signal, no sign of an answer, he repeated the prayer in another part of the spring. Then another. He repeated this process for the remainder of the day.

Link figured if the goddess had left him an explanation in the spring, he would have learned it within a day. He saw the immediacy of Hylia’s healing magic first-hand when he brought spring water to Faron. He was aware that Faron’s past ailment came from an evil curse, but Link figured that Hylia may have reserved some magic for him. That supposed magic did not appear during his visit.

As he departed the sacred grounds he thought, _Maybe the magic there heals bodies and the Earth Spring is for minds? Or maybe the Skyview Spring only works for dragons._

He had no other evidence to back up his claims, but he was determined to complete his task and visit both springs. Nothing relating to the old gods or destiny seemed to make much sense to him lately, anyways.

Link descended the boulder he was on top of and continued his trek. While planning his journey, he decided against travelling directly west from the Skyview Spring to the Earth Spring—he was unfamiliar with ascending the mountain range from the east, and predictability in traveling was most desired. That meant he had to retrace his passage to access Eldin from the south. He would eventually arrive at the place that used to be marked by a red beam of light stretching into the sky, but this time with much more toil and effort than falling from a Loftwing.

His path would extend south to the Great Tree, then hook upwards towards the base of Eldin Volcano. He had to finish traversing the current section of woods he was in, cross a large prairie and then he would be nearing the Great Tree. Without Fi, Link could not accurately measure the distance he had travelled, but he calculated it would take one more day to reach the Great Tree.

Link stepped, and stepped and stepped, walking at a moderate pace to avoid total exhaustion. He took care to circumvent steep climbs, except when to gain a better understanding of his location. He gathered food and water as he walked and lit a fire and bathed every couple of nights. The forest provided decent shelter from the occasional rain, and with Demise’s defeat, the evil creatures that once roamed the Surface ceased to exist. 

Link now had the opportunity to appreciate the unbridled nature and scenery of the Surface, but the only thing he was focused on was moving, moving, moving. Birds passed overhead, trees and plants that he had never seen surrounded him, but his neck remained stiff and straight.

As he walked and munched on a root he dug up earlier, the trees began becoming increasingly more sparse. He reached the end of the tree line and was facing a large open grassland. He estimated that he would be able to cross the prairie in slightly over an hour. Taking care to avoid prickly plants or snakes, he trudged through the knee-high grass, grateful for whoever decided the Knight Academy uniform should include boots and long pants.

With the resistance from the tall grass, Link’s gait was slowed. He plucked edible wildflowers as he advanced, tasting some and reinforcing his favorites. He must have hit a particularly dense patch of grass because he detected a faint crunching. About a minute later, he heard it again—louder. 

_When’s the last time I looked behind me?_

Link halted, hesitating to look back for fear of actualizing his suspicion. He slowly twisted his neck backwards, tilting his head upwards. A black cloud rolled in from the southwest. With the previous protection from the thick forests of Faron, Link had fallen out of the habit of checking the appearance of the clouds.

He twirled, checking his visible surroundings. _There’s no cave or good tree cover around me,_ he observed.

_Shit_.

If I start running now, I could probably make it to the forest, he thought. He was referring to the woods in front of him that marked the end of the prairie. Because of the height and compactness of the grass, his run took the form of awkward half-jumps. He leapt, tried to charge straight through the grass, realized the futility of this action, and leapt some more. 

He lost his rhythm and fell. He scrambled upwards, struggling to find a secure holding at first. Once he succeeded in fully raising himself, he noticed it was significantly less bright. He looked to the sky, the storm clouds were close enough to dim the immediate area around him. The air around him took on a brownish-yellow hue, and he could smell the incoming storm. 

There was nothing else for Link to do except to keep going. Thunder roared from behind him, and his hope dissipated as he felt the first raindrops trickling through his hair and clothes. The ephemeral drizzle ushered in whipping winds and sheets of rain, subjecting Link to their forces. The heavy rain blotted out much of the light and blurred his vision so the only sense he could trust was instinct—instinct he was moving in the right direction.

Rain roared down on the meadow, soaking through Link’s being. His boots sloshed, and every time he pushed his hair across his forehead, the rain matted it into his eyes once more. The rain flooded his senses, all he could feel, see, taste was the water falling from the sky. He closed his eyes but still moved his legs to proceed, bending his torso forward to combat the wind.

And the wind fought back, knocking him off of his feet once more. He laid in the tall grass, permitting the rain to saturate him further. He was tired. He could not think. He could barely breathe without believing he was drowning.

_Is this how you felt the last day of your lives?_

A memory so deeply embedded in the recent history of Skyloft surfaced in his mind. The memory of the poster children of why not to fly in the rain. The pivotal moment of his upbringing. The cautionary tale of the death of his parents.

* * *

Link’s parents were knights of Skyloft. They had a picturesque life: they graduated together at the top of their class, married, moved in together and had a son. They both went through rigorous training to become rescue knights. Link remembers many nights where one of his parents was leaving for a shift as he was being put to bed.

They were revered throughout the floating island. They saved kids who snuck out at night from monsters, and caught residents who fell off of the island’s edge. The Skyloftians felt indestructible in their little world with such valiant and competent knights. Link, too, strived to be like his parents. He spent hours as a child swinging a stick around, reliving the tale of how his mother slashed down a chuchu.

Link was seven. Daily, he begged to see his parent’s swords and ride their Loftwings. Daily, considering his safety, they lovingly rejected his requests: “ _When you’re older.”_

He never got the chance to know them when he was older. 

A storm brewed in the distance. Two Skyloft residents had gone out for a joyride and did not return before the storm developed. Link’s parents were tasked with finding the residents. They hugged and kissed their son before setting off.

“ _We’ll be back before bedtime.”_

They accomplished their task: they did find and redirect the missing Skyloftians home. On their way back, Link’s parents got caught in the second wave of the storm. 

The next couple of weeks were a blur for the young Link. He drifted through the formalities, listening to adults having adult conversations and going over adult papers. These adults moved him from his home to his own room in the Knight Academy. The Academy was grateful for the contributions of Link’s parents, and they decided it would be fitting to take care of Link after their passing. 

_“Since Link was so eager to become a Knight like his parents, he could start training early! He could be under the tutelage of all the training knights and the headmaster himself!”_

Link did not voice any opinions of his care. It became rarer and rarer to hear the boy say anything at all. He started to resent the thing that was his main drive and inspiration—the Knight Academy.

The adult named Horwell would sometimes bring him a Remlit to play with. The adult named Owlan’s would make sure he was eating and spending some time outside of his room. The adult named Gaepora would invite him over for dinner, lightly attempting to coerce a single word out of the young boy. The splintered, patchwork family consisting of Gaepora, Link and Zelda would sit around a table every night, Link wishing he was invisible.

After a couple weeks of hosting their new guest, Zelda decided she was confused about his continued presence. Her father told her she would be getting a new friend, but this new friend never talked. Why did he live at the Academy? Who was he?

“Father, why does Link come over for dinner? Is there something wrong with him?” She asked one afternoon while they were eating lunch.

Gaepora breathed out steadily. He did not wish to impose more stories of loss on his daughter, but he realized even with his intention to protect, withholding information can be harmful. 

“Zelda. He is a very good boy,” Gaepora started. “He recently suffered a huge loss and we are going to help him for a while” 

“What kind of loss?” Zelda inquired.

The man cleared his throat twice, giving his daughter a soft, sorrowful expression. “I’m afraid his parents have… passed away,” he explained. 

Zelda remembered back to a few weeks ago when her father was dressing in his ceremonial robes. By his expression and reticence, she expected he was not attending an important Academy meeting, as he claimed.

“Oh,” she stated, looking down at the tabletop in front of her. She thought back to her mother, bedridden for weeks with an incurable disease. How she withered away, always with a smile on her face. Her mother’s perpetual happiness frustrated Zelda. How could she be happy about dying? Zelda shut her eyes tightly to fend off the macabre memories.

Zelda would see the strange little boy while she was out playing with her friends. She would try to invite him to play along, but Link would run away before she would ask. Zelda learned he would often be swinging a stick outside of the Sparring Hall. She would watch him from around a corner, peeking just one eye out to ensure she would not get caught spying.

When Link play-sparred, he no longer envisioned that he was reenacting one of his parent’s brave exploits. He swung his branch to fight back tears, to expel his anger and frustration. One day, he noticed a blue eye, framed by golden hair watching him in front of the Sparring Hall. He pivoted his body to run past her, ignoring whatever she was yelling after him.

The next day, he heard light footsteps coming from behind him in between his swings and grunts. He turned his head to show Zelda an expression of hate and disgust.

_Just leave me alone_ , he internally spat.

“I know it’s not the same, but I lost my mommy, too,” Zelda revealed.

Link dropped his sword. He turned his body to fully face her.

* * *

“Koo-weep!” Link heard. His eyes shot open. There was a Kikwi standing above his prostrate body.

He blinked at the animal (or plant maybe), and it shrieked, assuming a defensive position.

“Um… Machi?” Link said. 

The Kikwi raised its head, recognizing the human as Link. “You scared me! All you humans look the same, I couldn’t tell it was you, kwi kwi!”

Link noticed he was laying under a large swath of trees. He sat up, rubbing his head. He was still very damp.

_How’d I get here?_

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
